Not Again
by JackiLeigh
Summary: Tag to the Season 5 Finale. My story will kind of go the easy, expected route. Neal has been kidnapped because somebody wants him to do a job, but with a twist. The finale has got my plot bunnies hopping all over the place. So this, most likely, will not be the only story on this particular topic. It will contain Neal whumpage just because that makes me a happy, happy girl.
1. Chapter 1

NOT AGAIN

**AN: This is a tag to the Season 5 Season Finale. I am still not happy with the relationship between Neal and Peter. There is hope, of course, since Peter will be staying in NYC. But you have the 'gestures' of the hug in the office and the conversation between El and Peter over Neal getting off anklet, for me, it just seemed 'too little, too late.' **

**Having said all that…Thank God for Fan Fiction and Alternative Universes. So…On With The Show!**

June had called Mozzie after discovering that Neal had not come home the night before and now it was 10 a.m. and they still had no idea where Neal was.

"We really should call Peter, Mozzie."

"No suits! No suits!" Mozzie said, vehemently.

"We don't…have you found out anything yet?" June asked, referring to Mozzie's street contacts.

Mozzie shook his head. "No suits, June. I just. I don't want the kid in prison again."

"He didn't run, Mozzie." June replied. "He wouldn't leave without you. We both know that. And besides, didn't a few suits just save your…."

Mozzie looked at June. "You do not play fair, Ms. Wellington." He sighed. "Okay."

June then picked up the phone and dialed.

It was information that White Collar and the U.S. Marshals already knew. Neal, they thought, had left his radius and was headed to New Jersey, at a very high rate of speed. The Marshals soon tracked 'Neal' down. 'He' was in the back of Venito Sanchez's pickup truck in the form of a broken anklet.

Peter held both pieces of the anklet in his hands, and his blood ran cold. This was not Neal's style. First of all, he would have waited until he was further away to remove his anklet. And, secondly, he wouldn't have forcibly removed it. He would have fashioned a 'key' of some sort.

Peter's phone rang as he looked at the anklet. He put the pieces down and took out his phone. June. How was he going to tell June that something had happened to Neal?

"Agent Burke." Peter answered.

"Peter…Neal…he's...he's not here. He didn't…I came upstairs this morning. He's not here." June blurted out. She hadn't meant to do that.

"June." Peter said, trying to calm her down. "June…June…. He…we found Neal's anklet…in the back of a pickup truck bound for Jersey."

"Why would Neal be in the back of a pickup truck bound for Jersey?" June asked.

"Not Neal, just his anklet." Peter explained.

"He didn't run, Peter." June stated.

"I don't think so either, June."

"No, Peter. He. Did. Not. Run." June paused. "Mozzie is right here with me. Neal wouldn't have left without him."

"And…" Mozzie chimed in, loud enough for Peter to hear. "…there are certain…things that he would have taken with him when he left. They are all still here."

Peter felt the ice creep into his heart a little more. If Neal had been taken then…. Then he didn't know. Peter took the opportunity to question both June and Mozzie over the phone.

Peter learned what Neal had told Mozzie about going straight. Mozzie told Peter where he had left Neal. But, of course, Mozzie left out the part where he and Neal discussed removing the anklet.

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Neal was not at all sure where he was. But he knew he was in trouble. He had been kidnapped, and without that anklet, Peter would have no way to track him. They had also taken his cell phone. They had not really explained anything to him. And he didn't recognize the guy who appeared to be in charge; the guy from the park, the guy who had followed him on the street.

"I'm guessing you're wondering what this is about?" The guy said. "I need you to do a job for me."

"I don't do that anymore." Neal stated.

"I am in need of your…assistance. And I can provide you with certain…motivations to do what I want." The man replied.

"I don't…."

"June has been so…nice to let you live in her place." The man said. He smiled. "And Mozzie's been such a good friend."

Neal tried to move, to protest. But he had been tied to a chair, and the ropes were tight. "You can't…." He said, shaking his head.

"It'd be ashamed if something happened to that cute little baby. Theo, I think Diana has nicknamed him." The man paused. "My name is Samual Gates. And like I said, I have a job for you to do. If you care, at all, about the people I just mentioned you will do just as I ask.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Neal realized that this guy meant business. He just wondered what laws he was going to end up breaking before it was all over with.

Neal rubbed his right arm. He had no idea why it was hurting. It felt like a burning, but he thought that maybe they had just banged his arm on the side of the van when they threw him in.

Gates seemed to be in a hurry. But Neal could not figure out why. The gallery he wanted to hit had the items he desired in storage for an indefinite period of time. So, what was going on?

Neal rubbed his arm absently as Gates explained to him what he needed to know. Gates would have Neal break in and use his skill to authenticate and remove the selected pieces. Neal's services would, then, no longer be needed. It sounded great, why did Neal think that there was more to it.

It was then that Gates informed him. "I've injected you with a toxin. It causes extreme pain. And then 5 hours after administration, the subject experiences a painful death. I don't need any…witnesses, Caffrey. I'm sure you understand. But I do want to give you a ray of hope. I'll give you the antidote." He held up a vial and syringe. He slipped them into Neal's jacket pocket. "Don't waste it. It won't do you any good to take it now. And by the time you do need it…." He chuckled. "…well, you'll be in no condition to take it. You have to wait until after you get symptoms."

"Why me?" Neal asked.

"You're good at what you do. You are efficient, and you don't ask too many questions." Gates replied.

"So, why not keep me around?"

"I'm gonna ride off into the sunset with this one. A Caribbean island and everything, I don't need any…loose ends back here in the states."

"I respond well to monetary compensation." Neal said. If he was going to die, he might as well know the real reason.

"I never learned to share, Neal. What can I say?" Gates replied. "Sometimes you give people money, and they still talk. Dead people tend not to do that. What do you say we get this show on the road? Time is running short…for some of us." Gates replied. His goons finished untying Neal. Neal finally got a chance to stand on his own. And he felt okay, except that his arm was bruised from the shot. He continued to rub it as he listened to the details of the crime he had been forced to be involved in.

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Peter raced up the stairs to the town house. He had not had time to really talk to El about Neal. And now all he had time to do was shower and change before El took a cab to the airport.

El and Peter talked as Peter showered.

"You know that this is not how I wanted this to go." Peter replied. "I had every intention of taking you to the airport."

El had kept her tongue. But she felt she needed to say it. "Not again, Peter. Here you've decided to stay in New York and…." She said, shaking her head.

"He didn't run, El. Nobody in the department believes it. This is…this is not Neal's style. Mozzie has no clue where he is. The little man is completely freaked out, according to June. Plus, the plan was always for Neal and Mozzie to leave the city. together."

El listened to the water run, a little, before she spoke again. "What's going on then?"

"Neal is being held against his will, because somebody wants him to do a job." Peter replied. "That is the most likely, accepted, scenario."

"So…what you stake out all the art galleries?"

"That's just it, we don't know. It could be an art gallery, it could be a private collection. It could be here in New York. It could be anywhere, since Neal's off anklet." Peter replied. He had turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He wrapped a towel around his waist before he proceeded to the bedroom to finish getting ready and dress.

El followed. She and Peter had been hard on Neal, she knew. But she also felt like Neal could be ready at any time to leave, especially after getting the news about his release not going through. "He was…that release Peter. He wanted it. He was already imagining his life, you know that he was."

"And I told him not to do anything stupid, El. I know." Peter replied. "But I really don't think he would have just run. I really don't. I think he would have known I would catch him. And he would have not wanted to do the extra time that he would get for breaking his agreement."

"I hope you find him, Peter." El said as she waited for him to finish dressing and to carry her bags to the waiting cab. "But, something…something tells me that there is a lot more to this than you know."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**AN: Thanks, again, for all your alerts and reviews. I have no idea what toxin, if any, fits this description. But this is fan fiction, after all, so it doesn't really have to exist. And for those of you in the know about toxins and such, just suspend your disbelief long enough to enjoy the story.**

Neal was starting to hurt. His joints and his stomach ached. He felt nauseous. He still had 1 hour, 11 minutes left and the pain was becoming intense. And Gates had been right about administering the antidote. He was in so much pain, he shook and his eyes watered. He had no coordination to be able to draw up the antidote into the syringe and now, with the tears, he couldn't see to do it.

Gates had made use of Neal's services for about 2 1/2 hours. They had then dumped him out into a back alley in a bad part of town. So that if the toxin didn't kill him, most likely a gang member or a drug dealer would.

Neal had staggered around like a drunk man for a little while, trying to make himself walk out of the area, driven by the desire to live. He tried to talk to the people he met. But most people avoided him, thinking him drunk or on drugs. He eventually made his way to the edge of the neighborhood. He found a little lean-to type shelter and tried to crawl inside. Gates had left Neal a watch. Neal guessed, so that he could count down the minutes until he own death. He looked at it now. He had 1 hour and 17 minutes left. He pulled his knees up to his chest, hoping that that would ease his pain. He wished, if he had to die, that unconsciousness would take him soon. He wanted to be completely oblivious when the time came.

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Calls were beginning to come in and agents were being sent to check out each reported sighting. Peter had sent out a nationwide BOLO.

_Someone has to have seen him. Someone has to have remembered him_. Peter said as he paced his office, running his fingers through his hair, his gut knotting and unknotting. He didn't like it that Neal was not answering his phone. He was getting more and more anxious with each passing hour.

"Peter," Diana popped her head into Peter's office. "Officer Karen Davis from the 109th Precinct just called in a description of a man she's been watching. She's pretty sure he's drunk. The precinct matched her description with Neal's. We've sent a team."

Peter nodded. He quickly put on his jacket. He then headed down the stairs.

Diana continued. "Davis said the man was down near the docks. He had on a dirty dress shirt and pants, nice shoes but no jacket. She said he was staggering around like a drunk man. She said she always just drove through the area he was in. Nothing ever happened there. She said it was the business district, attached to the wharfs."

Peter nodded. He knew the area. The wharf was horrible. But the business district, just a street over, was actually a pretty good area.

"How long ago was this?" Peter asked.

"She is still out in the area. She called for backup. She called an ambulance. Davis said she was continuing to keep watch. She said something just didn't feel right…a nicely dressed man, drunk, and in that area. It didn't happen. It was just not adding up for her."

All of the sudden the man was gone, out of her line of sight. Officer Davis had to leave her vehicle. She radioed in and stepped out. She felt a little comfort from hearing the sirens in the distance. She just hoped that they were heading her way. She found Neal pretty easily. She drew her weapon and approached carefully. She tried to get Neal's attention. But he didn't seem to hear her.

Davis reholstered her gun, ruling Neal as nonthreatening. She knelt down in front of him. But Neal didn't, couldn't acknowledge her presence; he was in too much pain. Davis could tell that Neal had not been drinking. She didn't smell alcohol.

"Mr.…?" Officer Davis said as he reached out and touched Neal's leg.

Neal grabbed her hand and squeezed tightly. "Help me…Please!" He whispered. He was in pure agony.

Neal's action surprised her, and she tried to pull away, but Neal wouldn't let go. "Please!" He repeated through his pain.

TBC

**FYI: BOLO-Be On the Look Out**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Officer Davis searched the man quickly and thoroughly for gunshot wounds, anything that would explain his current pain. But she found nothing.

"Anti…antidote…pocket…." Neal whispered in the officer's ear as she tried to find a reason for his pain. She looked at him for just a moment, not understanding what he was saying. Neal repeated himself.

Suddenly Davis understood. She searched Neal's pockets. But she came up empty. He didn't even have a wallet or a cellphone on him.

"I didn't find anything." She told him.

Neal groaned in pain and frustration. "Pocket." He repeated. "…jacket…pocket."

Davis looked around. She shook her head. "I don't see a jacket." She told him. "I didn't see you with a jacket."

Neal groaned again. He knew he had his jacket, at one time. He looked around for it but didn't see it.

"Not much…time…poison…" Neal said, panicking, which only intensified the effects of the drug. He groaned again, louder this time.

Davis was not sure that she had heard him right. She had stopped for just a second and stared at him. _Had this man just told her that he had been poisoned, and his time was running out? _She needed to find that antidote. She kept looking, making sure she kept Neal in sight as she did.

White Collar reached the site quickly. Officer Davis quickly explained what Neal had said to her. She then continued her search with several of the agents joining in.

Peter was kneeling down beside Neal when someone produced Neal's jacket. By the time Peter got to Neal he had lost consciousness. Peter watched his friend as he quickly searched the pockets. He found a vial, a syringe and a stop watch. The watch countdown was at 15 minutes.

Peter looked at the vial and the syringe. Officer Davis had told them that Neal had said that this was the antidote. He looked at Neal. Neal was in no shape to confirm anything. Peter looked at the watch. It read 12 minutes.

Peter should just open the syringe, draw up the liquid and give Neal the life-saving shot. But, what if it wasn't a life-saving shot? What if Neal had been lied to? What if this hastened Neal's death? What if it was just water? The stop watch read 9 minutes.

Peter looked up at his agents. His mind racing, he needed to have the substance tested. But there was no time. His agent's looked at him, expecting him to know what to do. But he didn't and it scared him. He looked at the stopwatch again. It now read 5 minutes.

How was it possible for the time to have gone by so fast? Peter looked at Neal again. Peter made his decision. He picked up the vial and syringe and gave Neal the shot, plunging the needle into Neal's arm.

Peter than sat down on the ground. He wrapped the jacket, as best as he could around Neal. Peter then pulled Neal into his arms.

TBC

**END NOTES: I am not wrapping things up in a nice big red bow here, putting a bandaid on a bullet wound. I just love these characters so much. and it hurts to see the way things have gone in season 5. I just wanted a little glimpse of how things used to be, the wonderful father/son, partnership, friendship thing that made the show what it was. So, I guess that this is me sort of reminiscing. I hope you guys enjoy. **


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Peter was in the room when Neal woke up, much to Neal's surprise. _Why wasn't Peter in D.C.?_

"I didn't run." Neal said, his voice barely above a whisper. He felt very weak. The toxin had done its thing and ran its course. Even after administration of the antidote, by Peter, the toxin effects lingered for a couple of days.

Peter nodded. "I know. A member of the NYPD found you."

Neal nodded. He remembered the female cop. "…supposed to be in D.C."

Peter shook his head and sat down in the chair in Neal's hospital room. "I'm not a desk jockey, Neal. I love the field work."

"…only reason?" Neal asked.

"No." Peter replied. "I think you got a raw deal. I wanted to…."

"You lost faith in me." Neal said, shaking his head.

"Neal that's…."

"You were ready to dump me on the next poor sap." Neal stated.

"I didn't say…."

"You told Jones not to waste his career on me."

Peter just stared at Neal. Neal had not been anywhere around when Peter had said that. And Jones would have never repeated it. _How did…?_

"It's not important how I know, Peter. I know." Neal said. "But you want to know what happened. I'll give you the Reader's Digest condensed version. A man by the name of Samuel Gates kidnapped me. He threatened June, Mozzie, Diana and Theo. He told me he needed me to authenticate and then steal select art." Neal paused, just talking was wearing him out. "We raided the back store room of the Armstead Gallery, and he got away with a Monet and two Degas. But first, he injected me with a toxin and told me I would be dead in 5 hours. He wanted to insure my cooperation and tie up loose ends, all at the same time. He slipped the antidote into my pocket and told me, with great pleasure, that I would be physically unable to take it. He was right. He dumped me out after the job. You know the rest."

Peter stared at Neal. He had gotten the story and the attitude. He immediately called to have White Collar check out Samuel Gates. They had not found any other fingerprints, besides Peter's, on the vial and syringe.

"We were…I thought we were past this." Peter said.

"No, Peter, we are not past this. You don't get to say just anything you please, and I have to take it and just deal with it because you were my handler. Friends don't do that. Bosses and their employees do though." Neal replied. He was so tired, but he wanted his question answered. "Is that what I am to you, just an employee? Do I only get to be your friend when I act the way you want me to?"

It sounded childish, and Peter had to bit his tongue to keep from saying just that. He knew that that would only make Neal angry and then their conversation would surely be over. Plus, hearing Neal say it, Peter knew it was true.

"Neal…" Peter started."…I just…being the boss meant I had to handle things very differently. Our relationship had to change because my role in that relationship changed."

"Our friendship didn't have to change, Peter. But it did, all of the sudden I was just a criminal, and you had no faith in me." Neal said. "Or maybe I just misunderstood things, and we were never friends. Maybe all we had was just a business arrangement that I misunderstood as something else." Neal just looked at Peter. "And all these years you let me misunderstand it. But then, I guess it suited your purpose."

"What? What purpose, Neal? What are you…?"

Neal waved him off. "I'm tired, Peter. Can we do this some other time?" He asked, not really asking and not really expecting an answer. He then turned and lay on his side, pulling his cover up.

Peter wanted to push Neal, to make him explain himself. But he also knew that Neal would only tell him what he wanted to when he wanted to. Peter sighed and went back out into the waiting room. He knew he had plenty of time to kill. He would go home, feed Satch, stop by the office, and then he would still probably have plenty of time before Neal woke up to get back.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Neal opened his eyes. He looked around the room and sighed in relief. His, somewhat, constant companion was not in the room with him. Neal had a lot to think about. He had no idea why he was not in a prison infirmary right now. He had committed a crime, after all. He had not profited from it. He had committed it, under duress, but still…. Maybe it was the big wigs in Washington. Maybe his previous performance had pleased them so much that they had decided to let him remain free. Now all he needed to know was how much more longer he would be on his leash. He figured that this little…escapade would have to add to it.

Neal sighed again. He had had no time to consider what Peter had told him about the denial of his request. He had not really had time to process what that might really mean now. A horrible thought crossed his mind. _What if he was never free of his leash? _ Neal shook his head. He couldn't think about that. He needed to get better. He needed to figure things out.

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Home really wasn't home anymore, Peter was finding. Without El there it was just a place where he showered, ate take-out, and stored his belongings. If it had not been for Satch, he would barely be home at all.

Peter showered and dressed, Neal's words playing through his mind. _… just a business arrangement. … misunderstood and you let me misunderstand. …suited your purpose. _ The parts and pieces swirled through Peter's mind even as he fed Satch. He continued to think about them as he was parking his car in the hospital parking lot.

Neal's coldness had wounded him. And he guessed…no, he knew he deserved it. He had said some very hurtful things the past few days. And Neal had not reason to believe or trust him now. Peter knew every step he took would be an uphill battle to regain Neal's trust.

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"When am I going back to prison?" Neal asked, Peter as he walked in the door.

"Oh, you're awake." Peter asked, kind of surprised he didn't sleep longer.

"Yeah, when am I going back to prison?" Neal asked again. "I broke the law, Agent Burke." He paused. "And I really, really shouldn't have to be telling you that."

"D.C. heard…."

Neal nodded. "You don't have to say anything else." What he had been thinking had been true, D.C. had stepped in.

"What did you mean when you said it suited my purpose?" Peter asked.

"You did what you did to get me to cooperate." Neal said. "You wanted to make sure that our partnership was a success. You couldn't look like a fool in front your coworkers, the rest of the FBI. So you ensured your success by saying the things that you thought that I might want to hear. My cooperation equaled your high solve rates."

"Neal…!"

"I have no interest in being anybody's 65 year-old C.I., Peter." Neal replied.

"They can't keep you in the program indefinitely, Neal."

"Uh, huh." Neal said, betraying his skepticism and disbelief.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

From the previous chapter:

_"I have no interest in being anybody's 65 year-old C.I., Peter." Neal replied._

_"They can't keep you in the program indefinitely, Neal."_

_"Uh, huh." Neal said, betraying his skepticism and disbelief._

"I'll make sure that doesn't happen." Peter replied.

Neal looked at him. "You'll make…? Why do I not find that reassuring?"

"We can't go on like this, Neal." Peter replied.

"No, we can't." Neal agreed. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Me?" Peter asked, surely this was not all his doing.

"You are the only one who has a choice here. You send me back to prison. You wouldn't have to deal with me at all. You set me up with another handler. You wouldn't have to deal with me as much. Or you could be my handler again." Neal paused. "Like I said, what are you going to do?"

"I'll be your handler, so…."

"What happened to the promotion?" Neal asked.

"They filled the position. I was leaving." Peter replied. He paused and sighed. "We have a very…unique relationship, Neal. I did like you when I first met you. And I still do. It just…it scares me the things that you are willing to do for me. El was wrong to ask you to do what she did. But she was desperate. I'm not saying that it was a good reason. But that was her reason."

"She said that the only reason I did it was to stay out of prison." Neal stated. "You both did. If you believe that…if you really believe that…." He shook his head.

"She doesn't…we don't, Neal, but we have to consider…."

"Of course, I think about it, Peter. I mean you've been there, and you didn't want to stay." Neal interrupted. "But if you really believe that is my sole motivation for doing everything that I do…. You didn't take all the information you found out about me while you were chasing me and put it to good use." Neal looked around the room. "Where is El?" He had expected to see her.

"She's in D.C."

Neal just looked at Peter for a moment. "What?"

"El accepted a position at a gallery when she thought we were going to move, a major job at a major gallery. She…."

"…just you and Satch then?" Neal asked.

Peter took a seat and they sat in silence for a few moments.

"Whatever caused you to lose your faith in me, you need to get it back. This was not meant to be a 'rehab the convict' program, Peter. You didn't ask me to stop being a criminal. You asked me to show you what I would do, hoping you could catch other criminals doing the same thing." Neal paused. "I commit FBI-sanctioned crime, Peter, like it or not, that is what it is. That is what it boils down to. But I am also an artist, a painter, a sculptor. I own a business. I donate my time with June's charity functions, when I can. I try and keep Mozzie out of trouble…that is a full-time gig." Neal cast a skeptical glance at Peter. "And you say all I am is a criminal?"

Peter knew about the bakery. But he didn't know that Mozzie kept him busy, well, he kinda did. But he had no clue Neal was so involved with June's charity functions.

"No, I'm saying you keep preforming criminal acts and I keep having to cover for you." Peter explained.

"How many times have you parked illegally this week?" Neal knew Peter used his badge to 'take care' of things like that.

Peter looked at him knowing he knew the answer.

Neal nodded. "You're a criminal. You broke the law."

"You're comparing stealing a Monet to a parking violation?" Peter asked, unbelieving.

"I'm speaking to human nature. People get away with something once, they will do it again. And they will continue to do it until they get caught. And that will deter them, for a little while, but if the opportunity presents itself again…."

"You're saying that it's in your nature to steal." Peter stated.

"I'm saying that even you, Agent Burke, are prone to breaking the law. So get down off your high horse, and get your head out of the clouds." Neal replied.

"I'm not acting like…."

"You didn't mention that recording until you were already out of prison. I had come to see you only days before and told you I had no idea where James was." Neal replied. "If I had been close, don't you think I would have told you? Then you say all I will ever be is a criminal…while sitting in your nice, new office…after you got your nice, new promotion."

"Neal…!" Peter was getting angry and he could not help himself.

"I was a huge part our success rate. But I never got to revel in it. You always said it was _your_ high success rate." Neal said.

"I worked hard for that promotion, that new office. I deserved it." Peter said, feeling the need to justify himself.

"Then why aren't you in D.C. chained to a desk right now? Why aren't you with El?" Neal asked.

"I owe you an apology."

"Okay, but that's no reason to stay in New York." Neal replied.

"I can't do this over the phone or in an email." Peter said. "And like I said, I'm not a desk jockey."

"You can say anything, Peter. But if your actions don't match your words…." Neal started.

"I'm not just saying this, Neal. I just…I need to start somewhere." Peter paused. "Will you give me a chance?"

"Do you really, truly believe the only reason I did what I did was to keep myself out of jail? Tell me the truth."

Peter shook his head. "No, I don't. I know you were thinking of me and El. And really do appreciate that. I don't think I told you that."

"We can work on it." Neal said.

THE END


End file.
